The Iron Bull watched Cullen from the beginning, but it took time for Cullen to let himself be seen. After all, he'd become so good at denying what he wanted that he never learned how to take what he needed. “Half the lasses and lads in Haven have spent weeks trying to figure out how to make you blush. I just happen to be better than them at finding and exploiting the cracks in people’s armor.” “That’s rather ironic, given how little of it you actually wear.” “Are you kidding? That’s one of my best strategies. When people think that they can see everything about you already, they don’t worry so much about protecting their own weak spots.”

Written for the Dragon Age: Inquisition kink meme. A desire demon tries to tempt Dorian disguised as Cullen, and awkward conversations are had.

Coming off the Lyrium was hard, but discovering that he's a mage is harder. Cullen struggles with the revelation but the mages of Skyhold team up to help him. Originally on the kmeme.

After Dorian's first heartbreak his mother teaches him a bit of old magic. Casting flowers and herbs into a bowl and wishing for someone doesn't make them real. Dorian refuses to believe the wish he made when he was younger came true, even if the evidence is staring him right in the face.

Playing designated driver is not Dorian's forte. Luckily, he's got some sober company in the form of the second most attractive friend in the group--after himself, of course. Dorian's not sure why Cullen comes to these parties. He doesn't drink, doesn't socialize, he even goes to work with most of these people! There has to be a reason though, right?

"Maker save me from you Southern chantry boys." Dorian shakes his head, rolling his eyes and not seeming like he minds being oggled all that much. "You believe in the Maker?" Cullen asks softly, stunned at the idea. He knew there was still a chantry further north, but the idea of them worshipping the same Maker Cullen does is difficult to grasp. "Don't you?"

A crush, a dog, a kiss, and hope for a lifetime.

"It's bad enough that everybody here in the bloody south thinks that I'll kidnap them and use them for blood magic, it seems a bit over the top for them to think I'm cruel to tiny fluffy animals as well."

A series of fanfictions exploring Sera's possible neurodivergency, some based off my own symptoms that I see in her.

Some of the Herald's loyal followers take it upon themselves to punish a certain Tevinter mage for daring to corrupt their icon with his affections. In Skyhold, the Inquisitor's own fortress, the man he loves is attacked by the people he's sworn to protect. Worse, he's not there to stop it, or comfort his mage afterwards. Many of the Inner Circle are, however, and they're on the warpath: hunting down those responsible while trying to undo the damage done. Some scars are more than skin deep, though, and there may be more to the story than any of them realize...

Dorian keeps waiting for everything to fall apart. Bull has a better idea.

Dorian's parents come to Skyhold to take him away based on a deal Dorian and his father made a long time ago that if Dorian was not in a relationship by a certain age, Halward could marry him to Livia Herathinos. No questions asked. Cullen only sees one way to ensure his chess partner stays in Skyhold. They only need to fake being in a relationship long enough to get Dorian's parents out of Skyhold anyway. How hard could it be to complete the Tevinter courtship rituals?

"You make me feel like I'm not good enough."

Written for a kmeme prompt. Cullen is raising a baby alone through the events of DA:I, Dorian is more help than he expects. Slow burn.

Varric only got as far as “And this is the-“ before Hawke purred, “Why, hello there, stranger.” Disappointingly, the drop dead gorgeous vision of male perfection behind the staid old desk in the partly ruined stone chamber stared at Hawke in pure confusion. Tousled tawny gold hair over a vision of a face: strong jaw, yet something indefinably boyish, full cocksucker lips, broad shoulders, trim hips… “It’s good to see you again, Viscount,” the stranger blinked as Hawke finished his blatantly curious once-over. “‘Again’? Surely I’ll have remembered you from somewhere before, handsome.” “Er,” said the wet dream, and behind Hawke, Varric let out a deep sigh.

Dorian had scarcely read through the first chapter when a shuffle of footsteps stopped outside his nook. He glanced up, a little warily, then set the book down on his lap in surprise: it was General Cullen, of all people, still in his military uniform, the khaki pressed to razor edges, the collar blood red against his throat, the gold star of his rank bright and high over his sleeves. “General,” Dorian greeted Cullen, when Cullen seemed to hesitate. Hells, but the man was ridiculously handsome, more so than Dorian had expected: it wasn’t just the uniform, at that - there was something deliciously attractive about a gorgeous man who was utterly unaware that he was gorgeous. “Something the matter?”

“Hey. Hey. I have an awesome idea,” Sera said suddenly, having rolled slowly onto her back until her head and part of her shoulders were hanging off the edge of the couch. “We could… we could totally set Dorian up. With one of our, our other friends. He’ll cry less, we’ll drink less, everything will be great.” “… Sounds doable,” Evelyn burped. “But who?” “Urm.” Sera frowned. “What about Thom?” “Naaah. He’s too much of a sad puppy. He’ll make it worse.” “Bull?” “Think he’s banging some waitresses right now. At least two. At the same time without either of them knowing. It’s like some serious spy shit.”

“You’ve done your best,” Cullen interrupted absently, and Dorian’s eyebrows arched in surprise. Cullen stared back evenly, hiding his own instinctive amusement. Mother Giselle glanced at them both, then shuffled away, back to the wounded, leaving them alone at the fire. Finally, however, to Cullen’s surprise, Dorian’s wry, faint smile curled into something warmer. “I’m never going to get used to that.” “To what?” “Being interrupted,” Dorian said dryly. “Here in the South.” “Because you’re a mage, and I’m an omega?” Cullen asked, a little testily.

The game was finally starting to move into Dorian's favour when the meaty thudding sounds of something heavy hitting flesh drifted across the courtyard. Commander Cullen looked up sharply, with something in the keen, alert tilt of his jaw reminding Dorian incongruously of the well-bred coursers that his mother had so loved, then Cullen glanced back at their game. "Qunari mating habits," Dorian suggested, just to watch Cullen flush and scowl. "Hardly. It's something about conquering fear. Inquisitor Adaar explained it to me. He was quite serious about it too. Very, ah, cultural.”

Little Bull/Dorian tumblythings, all in one place!

Five times the Iron Bull let Dorian Pavus walk away, and the one time he finally didn't.

Cullen attempts to manage his lyrium withdrawals alone. Dorian won't stand for some Ferelden rube thinking he knows better than a brilliant mage from Tevinte

Blackwall shrugged, all creaking armour and leather. “I may not like you or what you are very much at all, but you are brave and you have a good heart: that much is undeniable. It’s more than what most people have. So.” “… And here I thought we were going to launch into some terrible spiel about how we were all in this together,” Dorian said, after a startled pause. The day was turning out to be full of surprises. “That sort of thing only happens in Varric’s books.” “Oh, you read! I’m shocked.”

Scorched earth policies don't leave much to work with, but Dorian and the Iron Bull just might manage.

The Iron Bull never asked Dorian to stay, but Dorian did.

Or, five times Dorian Pavus and Iron Bull hastened slowly. Scenes from a love story. (Each chapter is a self-contained variation on a theme.)

In which the Bull is one of the Ben-Hassrath's best agents, ready to give himself piece by piece to the fighting on Seheron, and Dorian is cursed, irritated, and stuck in a cave. An AU where the Iron Bull meets Dorian on Seheron, with Beauty & the Beast elements.

Five Times The Iron Bull carried Dorian and one time Dorian carried Bull.

Kaaras needs to be in control. As he's faced with more decisions, more events the workings of which he doesn't understand, he feels this control slipping. He needs to face the fact that he may not know everything, and may even not know exactly he is himself. Iron Bull and Dorian can help with that. Rated for future chapters.

Cullen is more than happy to make an appearance at the conclave at Seeker Pentaghast's request. How was he supposed to know that a simple favour would change his life forever? AKA The Cullen as Inquisitor AU I have been thinking about for some time.

“Man cannot discover new oceans unless he has the courage to lose sight of the shore.” -Andre Gide

In which Cole isn't a desire demon, but thinks it might help if he was.

Cassandra stumbles across a secret literature-exchange society in Skyhold. She disapproves, of course. Deeply. (That person who keeps prompting for crossovers with characters out of Varric's novels? Not her.)

A terrible portrait of the Inquisitor is painted for her birthday. She thinks it's atrocious, Krem thinks it's a little hilarious. Drinking ensues to help cope.

Bull and Dorian flirt poorly, get together, and make no promises at all. Spoilers for Bull's personal quest and Dorian-related happenings, that there is a dragon in Crestwood, and that Dorian hates the cold. He was raised on ancient and expensive bottles of Aggregio Pavali. He knows how to judge the legs and the terroir, how to talk about each in sublime company until they surrender to his superior grasp of alcoholic poetry. He prefers the brutish ale. It does a better job of getting one drunk.

Letters Dorian never sends to Halward Pavus frame a short story in which Dorian develops a resistance to being poisoned by Vitaar, among other things. For years now, Dorian has maintained a collection of half-composed and unsent letters home, the sorts of missives one writes in one’s head when one isn’t able to sleep.

Cullen and Dorian's friendship deepens. Cullen is a romantic. Dorian is literally cold. Cullen is no longer certain what he would consider surprising. Mages and Templars working in perfect cooperation, perhaps. Evil and corruption disappearing into the ground along with the blight, blood magic falling so far out of favor it ceased to be. A united Thedas: that would be a surprise.

Cullen isn't as slow to catch on as everyone thinks. He's just slow to act on it.

The longest is the journey home. Dorian's continuing sojourn in Skyhold is interrupted by the arrival of an unexpected letter. It sets him on an uncertain course to face matters of his past, present and future.

Matters come to a head for the Bull and Dorian on an otherwise routine mission.

The slow love song of Josephine Montilyet and Cassandra Pentaghast, on the side of running the Inquisition and saving the world. Each story is standalone but they might be best when read together.

Alistair thought he had found his place in the world when he joined the Grey Wardens. But the battle of Ostagar changed that world, and as Alistair follows the only other surviving Grey Warden through a country being torn apart by both Blight and civil war, he finds his ideas about his place and his self changing, too. Particularly when he falls quite spectacularly in love.

Dorian keeps waiting for everything to fall apart. Bull has a better idea.

He keeps the aqun-asala powder in a jar on his dressing table. Every three months he spoons some of it into a mug and mixes it into the water with his finger. It's supposed to be tasteless, but when he swallows it down it lingers on his tongue, affects the taste of anything else he eats for the next couple days, mutes everything. He gets a kick outta eating spicy shit all lackadaisically and offering it to people, and acting surprised when it burns their mouths. (When he explains it to Sera, after she's stopped crying and threatening to stab him with one of his own horns, she thinks it's hilarious — tries to talk him into letting her have enough to prank people, actually. He knows exactly how much is left in the jar though, and he's not sure he's ever gonna get more... so she has to make do with sitting next to him and watching.) "So it keeps you from losing it, huh?" she asks, glaring down into her empty flagon like she doesn't know where the beer got off to. "No squishy pffff—" she puffs up her cheeks and sets the flagon down, curving her hands into a circle and then moving them apart, "—for the qunari pokers?"

Dorian is quite magnanimous in victory, and perfectly willing to reward Bull for being so gracious in defeat.

Dorian is feeling frisky in the crowded Herald's Rest.

There are times when, for the greater good, one might choose to lose a bet. This is one of those times.

Josephine is not a flirt, really.

Bull read the letter, his face growing more grave by the line. "Cooper is coming," he said finally. "They've probably sent him to finish me off."

The Antivan language and sex on the war table: just two of Bull's varied interests.